


Pick Me Up

by bunnyfication



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyfication/pseuds/bunnyfication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finland becomes part of Russia and has mixed feelings about it. It might have been called a seduction, if he'd had a real choice about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> One of my earlier Hetalia fics, back before I really grasped Russia's character, I think. Also I tagged it as non-con to be safe, because consent is at best dubious. But neither is it very graphic.

Finland stood in Sveaborg, his "unbeatable" fortress. An unbeatable fortress that hardly shoved a mark of battle, because it had surrendered with none.

He looked to the sea, over the dark choppy waves, and remembered the ice that had covered it back then, like a white wall holding Sweden away, unable to send help.  
And the help he had sent, those inept commanders who knew more about correct manners than they did of battle...the commanders who had led Finland's people to die of cold and illness.

Finland felt his hands curl into fists, and a dark flame of anger and disappointment set to light in his chest.

There was a scrape of boots on gravel, and Finland whirled around, turning his back to his old ruler to face the new one.

"Russia," he said, remembering the stories his people whispered to each other, of murder and rape and pillage.

Russia inclined his head, looking much more civilised and calm than Finland had expected. He smiled, openly and cheerily, and took a step closer. Tino held his place, willing his expression not to waver.

"Don't be afraid," Russia said and held out a hand, clapping it down on Finland's shoulder, gentle enough to be still within the bounds of friendship, but still hard enough to remind Tino of the power in those hands. "Just call me Ivan."

He used the hand to pull Tino in, into a friendly half embrace, leaving his other hand free to make a gesture at towards Sweden, hidden behind the sea.

"Do you truly miss him so, that you would stand here pining after him like a stolen bride?"

Ivan's voice was relaxed, genuinely curious.

"No, I..."

Russia shook his head.

"You know, you actually had a chance to beat me, there at the beginning."

Tino's head turned at Russia's words, his eyes widening. Ivan's expression surprised him. It wasn't gloating, or cruel. Slightly amused, perhaps, even rueful.

"You did! Your people were just so nervous, they did a few pretty bad mistakes...but I guess you knew that already."

Tino nodded cautiously. He didn't much trust this nation, for all his amiability right then. Really, he was a bit too friendly to be believed. His violet eyes too wide and innocent.  
Russia had turned away again, but kept his arm around Finland's shoulders.

It was warm, at least. He had been so cold for so long, feeling his people slowly freezing to death even as they marched on and on...Tino took a deep, ragged breath and shivered, closing his eyes. He really had lost.

"I noticed some of the people your old sweetheart sent weren't really that helpful either," Russia was saying, in a quiet, thoughtful voice.

Finland shook his head, trying to ignore the small voice that said he'd just been thinking the same.

"H-He tried his best," he whispered, his teeth chattering again. Russia drew him closer still, cupped Tino's hands inside his own. His closeness felt invasive, frightening, and yet...he was warm. At least he was warm, and Tino felt like a piece of him was missing, a limb freshly ripped off (no, he was the limb, wasn't he? My left hand, Sweden had said, once).

"Let me go," Finland whispered, but he hardly tried to get away. It was too late for that, the fight was over already.

A hand brushed his hair, and Tino could feel Russia's breath on his neck, warm and wet.

"I told you there's no need to be afraid."

"Then let go."

"No." Russia's hands kept wandering this way and that, brushing Tino's hair from his forehead and insinuating inside his collar, and he just stood there, as if rooted to the spot.

"You're so cold," Russia said, softly. "I meant to let you go soon, when that nitwit of Francis', whatshisname, Napoleonis, asked me to capture you. Back then..."

Finland looked up, and Russia's eyes were almost distant, the cold greyish blue of very old ice. The kind of ice that never quite melts, except on the surface, and Finland shuddered again, no matter how warm Russia's hands were.

Then Ivan smiled, and the top layer of ice melted away again.

"Never mind about that. Back then, my dear friend, I didn't know you as I do know. Now I believe we have a long and bright union ahead of us."

"Bright?" Tino couldn't help sounding bitter. "My people are not used to being slaves like yours are. They won't accept it."

Russia shrugged.

"Who said they had to become slaves. The system you have here now...it seems to work well enough. You might as well keep it."

Tino stared at the other nation, his mouth agape.

"You...you don't wish to..."

Finland was too amazed at this to resists when Russia opened his top buttons, and pushed his hand inside his coat. He was drawn to the other's arms, into an embrace.

Finally, when Russia took his chin in his hands and drew his face up, Tino was startled into action. He pushed away, unable to break the hold Russia had on him, too weak from the recent battle.

Ivan just looked at him, his expression calm and not unkind, but there was a certain hunger in his eyes.

"To hurt you?" He whispered. "No, that's not what I want. I want to give you something good, more indepence that Berwald ever gave you...wouldn't you like that?

Tino gaped at him, and Ivan's smile widened, his eyes bright and happy.

"You must meet my Alexander, he likes that idea too...and I'm sure you'll love him."

Ivan's words were soft and sweet, like a spell that Tino didn't know how to break anymore. His hands fell to his sides, and Ivan's fingers were gentle but insistent as he pulled Finland in for a kiss.

His mouth was equally soft yet commanding, and Tino found himself surrendering again, opening his mouth under this new attack. He moaned helplessly, at the impossible warmth and slickness of that tongue in his mouth, searching it as Russia's hands had searches his body earlier, as they were doing at that same moment. The wind was still cold at his back, but in other places Finland was burning.

"Please," he whispered, not even sure what he was asking for.

He did know what it wasn't when Russia drew back; his eyes glinting with cool amusement, like snow in the summer.

"No, don't--"

Ivan held a finger to Tino's lips, and shook his head.

"No, I don't think I'll let you go. Not yet."

*

Later, Finland curled on his side, feeling...strange. A bit too sticky and achy in places, but it hadn't been that bad. Really.

It would be ridiculous to start crying all of a sudden, just because he'd always though that...that he'd do this with someone else, if anyone. No use thinking about _him_ either, he told himself firmly, biting his lip to keep it from trembling.

He didn't want to look like a child in Russia's eyes too; he'd had enough of that with Sweden.

"Is something wrong?"

Dammit.

"N-no. No, nothing."

He made himself turn around and meet Ivan's faintly puzzled look.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, head cocked to the side like a concerned puppy. Like a very large, dangerous puppy, Finland thought, and had to stifle a slightly hysterical giggle.

"No, I'm just not used to...I mean, I've never..." he bit his lip, but Russia's eyes were already widening in surprise.

"Oh! You should have said it was your first time!" he exclaimed.

Finland could feel his face heat, and looked away, feeling even more uncomfortable at his unplanned admission.

"It doesn't matter, really," he mumbled, wishing he could just go away already.

But it was his own room, so he couldn't.

*


End file.
